The Author
Publicada el 25 de mayo de 2026
Letra completa
Picked up the book for the first time in ages
Still washed me clean with the dust on the pages
My life is a story I struggle to write
(But) is it one worth telling, is it one You like
(So) Who am I, who am I
Am I just a poor preacher's prodigal son
A troubled child, running wild
Chasing the glory instead of the One
Who says that I, even I - have something (still left) to offer
(So) Who am I, who am I
To question the pen in the hands of The Author
Like every good story you learn from the loss
And I lost the plot every time I’ve played God
I live in a moment You already wrote
And it proves that I’m someone, yea someone You love
(So) Who am I, who am I
Am I just a poor preacher's prodigal son
A troubled child, running wild
Chasing the glory instead of the One
Who says that I, even I - have something (still left) to offer
(So) Who am I, who am I
To question the pen in the hands of The Author
I see trauma, I see worthless
You see something You can work with
I see weakness, I see failure
You see something good on paper
I’ve seen ashes to beauty
I’ve felt heaven working through me
I’ve seen panic turn to power
Felt Your peace in my darkest hour
What grace is this?
Called me by name again and again and again
What grace is this?
Crossed out my shame
Forgives me again and again and again
(So) Who am I, who am I
Am I just a poor preacher's prodigal son
A troubled child, running wild
Chasing the glory instead of the One
Who says that I, even I - have something (still left) to offer
(So) Who am I, who am I
To question the pen in the hands of The Author
/// I’m ink in the pen in the hands of The Author ///
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Who am I, who am I To question the pen in the hands of The Author